Rest in Peace
by Geeky BMWW Fan
Summary: My take on Batman RIP, kind of. BMWW Threeshot, for now.
1. Down To Earth

Disclaimer 1: I own nothing.

Disclaimer 2: I have never read Batman: RIP, and since I hate the story line I don't ever plan on reading it. What little knowledge of the plot I have comes from wikipedia articles and the dcdatabase. So, some of the things I mention might be very close to the plot or very divergent. I took what I wanted and made up the rest.

Disclaimer 3: While this could be a very long story (which I might write at a later date), I am stopping it after the third chapter. There is some closure there and a semi-natural ending, but it leaves things very open ended. I thought I should finish Stranger in Paradise before I tackled another big story. Normally, I like to wait in between posting the chapters, but since I've been so terrible with updating Stranger, I thought I'd put these all up at once. Hopefully, it's a treat and not a punishment. **:D**

A/N: Thanks, Kipling (whoops, I almost wrote your real name, lol), for betaing this ministory. I know how busy you are, so for those moments where you can relax, I'm purchasing some massage chairs for the enclave. I plan on coming over to use them often. **:D** Also, thanks to Hepburn for giving me some suggestions to make my story more authentic to Diana's culture and vocabulary.

* * *

**Rest in Peace  
**

**Chapter One: **

**Down To Earth**

* * *

Enjoying a rare day off, and an even rarer day of warm winter weather, Diana Prince and Tom Tresser were just returning from a stroll in the park. The sun was nearly setting, and Diana paused to watch the orange and pinks of the sky gradually fade to gray. Brushing her hair from her face, she noticed she was not the only one affected by the coming winds. The trees that lined the walkway of the Themysciran Embassy waved their bare branches at the returning couple.

"Not a moment too soon, huh? I think I felt a drop of rain hit me."

Tom followed her to the doorstep, his arm around her waist. Sensing that he wanted to come in with her, she turned and smiled. It didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm sorry I have to cut this short. I have a meeting tomorrow and I should really go over—"

Tom placed a finger to her lips. "No need to explain. Go do what you gotta do."

"Always so understanding."

"That's why you love me."

She stared at him. Sandy blond hair, bright blue eyes, a very handsome face, and better yet, he was brave and kind. Everything she should have wanted.

He leaned in and kissed her goodnight, and she pulled away before it could evolve from a brief peck on the mouth. "One of these days, you will have to say it."

Diana laughed, the faint sound carried away on the wind. Slowly closing the door, she said, "Goodnight, Tom."

"I love you too, Diana," he shouted playfully through the wall of oak.

Diana crossed the entryway, cringing at the loud echo of clicks and clacks her heels made across the tiled floor.

"Diana? Is that you?" a female voice called out, arresting Diana's retreat.

"Yes. I'll be right there." Shucking off her civilian heels, she soundlessly made her way to the reception desk outside her office. "It's after five. Why are you still—"

Diana stopped mid-sentence as her secretary, Jessica, looked up, green eyes vibrant and wide. Her mouth was in the shape of a perfect 'O', but no words issued forth as she thrust a letter towards Diana with such force, the tight red spirals of her hair bounced up and down. It was a miracle Jessica had not toppled over in her nervous energy. Grabbing the letter, Diana turned the unaddressed envelope over in her fingers.

"Who dropped this off?"

"He wouldn't give his name, just said he was an old friend. He had an Australian accent, I think. Or maybe it was British. I'm not really good at telling them apart. I'm sorry." The secretary's voice grew weaker and weaker until her apology was barely audible.

"It's al—"

"And he wa—"

Jessica stopped speaking again, mouth agape at her supposed faux pas. Diana waited a second, but Jessica didn't continue.

"Yes?" she prompted.

"Sorry for interrupting, but I just remembered. He was bald. I should have made him leave a note. I mean, I know he already did, but another note. You know…"

_Poor girl. _

Diana intervened, putting Jessica out of her misery. "It's alright. You've only just started, and I don't expect you to know the ins and outs of the job yet. In the future, just leave me a message. It isn't necessary for you to stay past hours to tell me these kinds of things in person."

"Oh. Well, he said it was important, and nothing like that's happened before."

"Thanks for the letter." Diana headed out of the room, calling over her shoulder, "Goodnight."

Climbing up the stairs, Diana rolled her neck, feeling the tension melt away as she walked into her room. She threw all her mail onto the bed and began to run the bath. There was a meeting, but she wasn't going to study the notes.

Diana sat down on the bed with a sigh, rubbing her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she reached for her mail.

_Trash. Trash. Trash. More trash. _

After depositing all the requests for interviews and gala invitations in the garbage, she picked up the unmarked envelope. The cream paper of the stationery was heavy and sealed shut with wax, but there was no impression made in the cloudy fluid. Sticking her finger under the lip of the envelope, she tore it open.

_Madam,_

_It is with great sorrow and regret that I inform you of the passing of…_

Her eyes scanned the opening lines, disbelieving. She stared at the horrible words for an age until they seemed to run into each other and ceased to make sense. They eventually disappeared as the letter drifted from her shaking fingers to the floor.

The shrill sound of the telephone ringing lifted her stupor. Diana reached for the receiver and managed a hoarse, "Hello?"

"I just found out. Are you alright?"

_Bruce is dead._ _How could I possibly be alright? _Her eyes began to burn, and she couldn't speak.

"Diana? Please say something. Do you want me to come over?"

"No," she choked out. "Do you…do you know when the funeral will be?"

"In the letter Alfred gave me, he said his body hadn't been found yet, but they are having a memorial service next week."

"Oh. I didn't read the rest of the letter. I should probably do that."

"Do you want me to do the press conference?"

"What?"

"We need to tell the world—"

"That's not a good idea."

Diana heard nothing, and wondered if they had been disconnected. "Clark, are you still there?"

"The sooner we tell everyone, the better."

"But they still haven't found his body. He might still be alive. And if his city finds out that he's dead, there will be nothing stopping them from tearing Gotham apart. We owe it to Bruce to keep this secret."

"Diana, Alfred thinks it's best."

Defeated, Diana closed her mouth.

"I'll be doing it tomorrow morning. Can I count on you to be there?" Clark asked.

"No."

"I'll do the talking."

"I'm not going."

The sound of him exhaling loudly was harsh in her ear. "Whether we acknowledge it or not, Bruce is gone."

Her heart refused to believe it. How could she have lived three whole days without feeling any different? She would have sensed if he had been taken from her. Bruce could _not _be gone. Her heart raced and pounded against her chest as she gathered the courage to refute Clark, but no words would come. This time, reason won out.

"Diana, I know you don't want to go, but I need you." Pain infused his words, and for a second, she felt sympathy. But he had only lost a great friend and teammate; she had lost…Her mind seized as it searched a way to define what Bruce was to her, but it was impossible. There were too many ways in which they were connected. _Had been connected._

"I'll be there."

"Thank you." The line went silent for a few seconds. When Clark spoke again, she had to strain to hear him, "I know you two had—"

"I'm really tired, and" Diana waved her free hand in the air, trying to grasp at the right words.

"Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning, at nine."

Before he hung up, the words slipped right past her lips. "Clark, I wasn't ready for this." She covered her mouth with her free hand and swallowed down her sob.

"It's going to be ok."

Diana pushed the 'end' button, staring down at the dead line before whipping it towards the wall. It tore right through the plaster, straight into the bathroom, skittering to a stop against her now overflowing bathtub.

"Oh, gods," she moaned, running into the bathroom to turn off the faucet. She grabbed a towel and fell to her knees, sopping up the hot water. "Could this day get any worse?"

_No. _

The thought roared in her mind, beating mercilessly on her tired heart. The towel was soaked through and she got up to reach for another, slipping in the still large puddle. She didn't try to get up.

_No, no, no._ The words grew louder and louder, until she realized she was yelling them to the empty room.

Eventually her voice grew hoarse and she just laid there in the water, allowing herself to cry over her losses.

She heard the phone ring and ignored it. It must have happened five other times, but she refused to answer it. This was her time. She would share Batman with the world tomorrow, and they could partake of the League's grief, but this belonged to her.

Some time later, Diana's mourning was interrupted by the sound of someone running up the stairs. She was in the process of raising her head off the floor when that someone began banging on her bedroom door.

"Diana, are you in there?"

Tom was practically shouting, and she could hear the fear in his voice. "Diana, open the damn door!"

Diana turned over on the floor, staring at the porcelain of her tub.

There were three loud crashes against the door before Tom shouldered his way through the splintered wood.

"Di—"

The touch of his helping hands provided the energy she needed. Pushing herself off the floor, she wrapped her arms around herself the instant she was on her feet.

"What's wrong?" His voice was now soft and gentle, everything she did not want. His hands were on her again, but she couldn't suppress a shudder.

"Are you cold?"

She looked down and blinked at her sodden state.

"I must have called ten times. Why didn't you answer?"

…

"That was two hours ago. I had to wait at the door for the security guard to let me in, and the rain is freezing outside. Stupid global warming. First it's hot, then it's cold, then it's wet. When is it going to make up its mind?...Diana, you're making me babble."

…

"Would you please tell me what's wrong?"

Needing to get away from him, Diana wandered over to her closet to get some dry clothes.

"Tom, I don't think we should see each other anymore."

"What?!" He shook his head, throwing damp, blond hair out of his eyes. "Why?"

"This isn't working between us."

"What the hell are you talking about?" The anger in his voice dissipated and once again Tom's voice was calm and soothing. "I realize you are having a bad day. We should talk about this later, not when you are upset."

"This has nothing to do with Bruce. I've felt this way for a while."

"Bruce? Who's Bruce?"

She turned to answer him and noticed him spying the letter on the floor. She quickly snatched it up.

Tom's eyes narrowed at the piece of paper. "What's that?"

"Nothing that concerns you."

"Who is Bruce?"

"No one." She turned away to dig through her closet, tucking the letter into the pocket of a winter coat.

"I got a call from work. Superman informed us that Batman is dead. I…I didn't think you were that close to him."

"I wasn't." The admission ripped her apart.

"Then why are you so upset?"

"I don't want to be having this discussion."

"Fine, but I'm not going to let you push me away because you're in a bad mood. We will sit down and talk this through like rational adults."

She wasn't going to change her mind. Now that she knew exactly what and who she wanted, it didn't matter that she could never have it. Tom would never be Bruce, and it was a waste of both their time to keep trying. But Tom deserved better than this.

"You're right," Diana said.

She started crying again when he held her in his arms, and he tightened his hold on her. "Do you want me to stay with you tonight?"

"I want to be alone…but thank you."

Tom took two steps back and dropped his hands to his sides. "Alright. I'll call you tomorrow." He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes scanning the floor. "I'm sorry about what happened and um, about the door. I'll tell the security guard you're ok."

As soon as she heard him walk through the doorway and down the stairs, she collapsed on her bed.

Staring at the warm clothes in her hands, she moved to get up. Methodically, she stripped down, removing each item one by one. The empty room filled with dull, monotonous thuds as her clothes dropped to the carpet. Completely undressed, she stared at her pajamas. The howl of the wind sent a tremor through her body, and before she could stop them, images of Bruce—dead, cold, and broken—assaulted her. The ugly visual stream was interrupted by the curious thought she didn't even know how he had died. The realization seemed to welcome with it countless scenarios of ever-increasing violence.

She fell to her knees.

How could she not have known? Lived three days without even feeling the slightest difference? She should have sensed he was gone, shouldn't have been able to enjoy the sunshine, while he lay in the dirt, covered with grime and frost, with no burial and no rest.

_I can't stay here. Not tonight. _

Standing to her feet, she spun around, and her uniform appeared. The tiara on her head was heavy, and she looked down at her body, now encased in the blue, red, and white star-spangled ensemble. Desperately, she grasped at the familiar golden coil against her thigh and gripped it with all her might.

Wrapping it around her body, she hissed as it burned through the chill that had settled over her heart. Within its shining circle, the truths she had tried to keep buried shone brightly, searing her mind as they scorched through her. She was in love with Bruce, had always been in love with him and only him. There was nothing she regretted more than not seizing the chance to be with him. But worst of all, there was nothing she could do to fix her mistake. He was gone.

Lashing the lasso to her side, she made to leave. _At least I can give him a proper burial_.

She walked towards the glass doors of her balcony and reached for the handle, nearly startled by her pale reflection. The dark night caused her twin image to appear faded, forlorn. She watched the muted princess before her, and nearly jumped when the reflection moved. Squeezing her eyes shut, she opened them once again, and saw the reason for her fright: Bruce. He was gazing at her through the window, as strong and handsome as she remembered him. Closing her eyes, she pressed her forehead against the cold pane and breathed in and out.

_He is here to haunt me. _The news was welcome, and she reconsidered the need to find his body. In this form, he could be with her forever. The lasso burned at her side. "Selfish," she heard it whisper. "Do not deprive him of his well-deserved rest." Diana released a shuddering sob, and with it all hope of keeping Bruce with her.

Wiping at the tears seeping through her closed eyelids, she opened her eyes and stared back at him.

Bruce's spirit opened his mouth, but even if he could speak, his words were drowned out by the howling wind.

He raised his hand, and the glass rattled with the impact of his fist.

"Diana, let me in."

* * *

**To Be Continued**


	2. Give Up the Ghost

Disclaimer 1: I own nothing.

Disclaimer 2: I have never read Batman: RIP, and since I hate the story line I don't ever plan on reading it. What little knowledge of the plot I have comes from wikipedia articles and the dcdatabase. So, some of the things I mention might be very close to the plot or very divergent. I took what I wanted and made up the rest.

Disclaimer 3: While this could be a very long story (which I might write at a later date), I am stopping it after the third chapter. There is some closure there and a semi-natural ending, but it leaves things very open ended. I thought I should finish Stranger in Paradise before I tackled another big story. Normally, I like to wait in between posting the chapters, but since I've been so terrible with updating Stranger, I thought I'd put these all up at once. Hopefully, it's a treat and not a punishment. **:D**

A/N: Thanks, Kipling (whoops, I almost wrote your real name, lol), for betaing this ministory. I know how busy you are, so for those moments where you can relax, I'm purchasing some massage chairs for the enclave. I plan on coming over to use them often. **:D** Also, thanks to Hepburn for giving me some suggestions to make my story more authentic to Diana's culture and vocabulary.

* * *

**Rest in Peace  
**

**Chapter Two:**

**Give Up the Ghost**

* * *

Startled for only a moment, Diana opened the door with such force, she nearly ripped it off its hinges.

The wind roared cold and harsh against her face, biting at her skin. Tiny pin pricks of sensation fired across her arms, her hair standing on end at the sight of the dead man. Everything in her screamed to pull him towards her, but her feet were cemented to the ground, her body incapable of movement. _What if he's just a shade? _ _What if he disappears when I try to touch him? What if—_

Bruce stumbled into her arms, and she staggered back under his weight.

Doubting hands ran over him, poking and prodding to see if he was really there. He grunted loudly when she touched his shoulder. Retracting her hand from the soft material of his dark sweater, she smiled at the moist redness staining her fingers.

"Spirits don't bleed."

Bruce rolled his eyes at her, and she could feel the giddiness bubbling up inside, tickling her throat as a laugh escaped over her lips. Before he could say anything, Diana ripped his sweater off. The blood was seeping through his bandages, but Bruce's only reaction was to stare at it dispassionately. _So typical of him_.

"Must have torn the stitches open when I was climbing up the building."

The sound of his voice—harsh, to the point, nearly condescending—was greedily absorbed by the soul that had just minutes ago despaired of ever hearing it again.

Unable to tear her eyes away, she basked in the small smile he gave her. "A first-aid kit would be nice."

Goaded into action, Diana retrieved the supplies from the bathroom and sat down on her bed next to Bruce. The soiled bandages adhered to his skin, and Diana bit her lip as she tried to peel the sticky rags off. Shapeless red splotches covered his shoulder and chest, making him look as if he had been attacked by a child and his watercolors. Squeezing the warm, damp rag, she washed his injury, waiting patiently as the white cloth turned a light pink. When she pulled it away, ripped stitching stared back at her, barely holding together a hole made from a bullet. Her fingers traced it carefully, then wandered to his back, where she found the suture for the projectile's exit. "It's only the front that opened," he said.

He reached for the needle and thread, but she snatched them away. "Let me." Before he could argue, she began threading the needle. The sliver of metal hovered over his skin, and their blue eyes met. He nodded at her, and she sank it into his skin. His pupils dilated, her only indication he was in any pain. Diana got back to work. The procedure did not take long, but she was relieved when it was over. Wiping his shoulder again, she covered it with new bandages.

"Not bad," he said, as he glanced down at her handiwork.

Unwilling to stop herself, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against the bare skin of his shoulder. He was warm, and she let her mouth linger there for a few seconds as his reassuring heat seeped into her. Her barely opened lips pursed shut, softly capturing his skin between them for the briefest moment. Her intention was clear; there was no way he could mistake her actions as the concern of a friend.

Now that she was looking at him, he stared down at his shoulder, fixated on his dressing. "I waited until your boyfriend drove away before climbing up." His voice was hard, on edge, and his words cut her.

She had lost hope, had settled for Tom Tresser when she should have fought tooth and nail for Bruce. Of course he would call her on her unfaithfulness, only Bruce didn't understand that the person she had cheated was him. But regrets were no longer necessary; he was here, and she had all the time in the world to prove her love.

"Tom and I…it's complicated, but as far as I'm concerned, it's over…"

"Trouble in paradise?"

"Not anymore."

Careful not to hurt him, she reached forward. Her fingers twisted around his beautiful _black _hair, eyes gazing into the depths of his eyes, which were the perfect shade of blue. His face was stern, but no less lovely for it. _This_ was everything she wanted. Her face crumpled under the heavy weight of joy reigning down on her, and she buried her face in his neck. "Why did you let me think you were dead?"

She tried not to cry, but her tears would not be held back. Everything she had gone through—the agony, anger, disbelief, the exquisite sense of hope and completeness she now possessed—was too much for her to keep inside. And when his arms wrapped around her, her body began to shake with the effort to contain her sobs.

"It's a very long story," he managed.

Through the blur of her tears, she saw the wrinkled brow and downturned lips. His thumb rubbed across her cheek, down the bridge of her nose. His other hand played with her hair, wrapping around the damp strands.

"Diana, I'm sor—"

"It doesn't matter." Her chest ached. It wasn't from her heart thrashing against her ribs or from the hoarse cries that had been ripped from her mere minutes ago on the bathroom floor. The familiar feeling of his gravity pulled at her with such force that she wondered how she had withstood it for so long. Everything in her strained to be near him, and for once, she chose not to analyze or worry about how this would affect their friendship. Giving in, she drew closer, losing her breath at the way the pangs of want skyrocketed the closer she drew near.

His mouth was so close, his breath was fanning the hair around her face. Just as she was going to close the distance, he pulled back, his eyes fixed firmly on hers. "This isn't a good idea. Emotions are running high, you're still with T--"

"Bruce, I lo—"

"No." He stood to his feet, disentangling himself from her and upending the first aid kit in the process. The implements of healing spilled across the carpet.

Diana's shoulders slumped. Sliding off the bed, she knelt on the ground, slowly gathering the supplies and placing them back in the container. The kit snapped shut and she crossed the floor, returning it to the bathroom.

It was not fair. Why was he allowed to disrupt her life? He must have known what his death would mean to her, what his return should have meant for the both of them. Why else would he come to her if not to be with her? And now that he was, he drew her in and then pushed her away, like always. While the humiliation was familiar, it still burned just as painfully every time.

Her hands fisted, only unclenching when she realized what she was doing. Looking down at her open hands, white crescent marks stood out against her palms. Standing up to her full height, she stalked over to him, her nose at the level of his mouth. "Why are you here? You could have gone to Clark."

"But I chose not to." The clipped delivery told her that was all she was going to get. She wanted to hit him.

"Does Alfred know you're alive?"

"Alfred, Dick, and you are the only ones."

"I have a press conference tomorrow. I'm supposed to tell the world Batman is dead."

"He is."

He sounded so convinced, she began to wonder if she had spent the last minutes with a spirit. "That's not true. I am not going to lie."

He gestured at the space between them. "This doesn't change anything."

"Why? You aren't dead."

He tried to turn away from her, but her hand stayed him.

"Maybe I should have went to Clark, let you keep thinking I was dead."

A sharp 'crack' split the air, and Bruce staggered back, his hand pressed against the red that was now blossoming on his cheek.

"You are _not_ dead!" She could hear her voice; it was bordering on hysteric.  
"I won't say it. My honor" _My heart _"won't allow it."

"I have more important things to worry about than your stupid honor."

She raised her hand again, ready to slap him once more, but he moved at her, pushing her up and into the wall. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a picture frame shake from the impact.

His face was mere centimeters from hers. The bright blue of his irises was nearly hidden behind the fringe of black lashes, which framed the angry slits. His breaths came out in frenzied spurts, his chest heaving against hers.

"How can you be so selfish?"She knew her eyes were pleading with him, desperate to make him understand that she loved him, hated the idea of him dying, hated that he would use that to hurt her. His gaze dropped to her chin, and his forearm, which was pressed just below her neck, fell away. Diana sank down the wall until her red boots made contact with the carpet.

"You need to tell me," the whispered words quailed in the face of his silence, but she watched as they made contact with their target. His jaw clenched, and he weighed the options behind lowered eyes. His hands, now at her waist, dug into her skin, bruising her, before he let her go. Diana's heart sank.

"Diana, I…" He looked up at her, and she nearly let out a cry. His normally clenched jaw was slack, framing his sagging mouth. His eyes shone, though under the watery film they looked dull, hopeless.

Her hand stroked his cheek, and she felt him shudder against her. Her body hit the wall again, as Bruce collapsed into her. The space between her neck and shoulder was filled with his face, and she cradled his head, gently rubbing his hair.

"My parents were gunned down in front of me, and it was my fault. If I hadn't forced them to leave the theater that night, they would still be alive. I pledged my life to protecting people like them, good people, because they had died for me. I sacrificed _everything_ to be Batman—a normal life, happiness, friendship, family, love." He looked up at her, "My entire adult life has been spent in misery, and all because of a lie."

She had never heard this story, and it left her speechless, so she took his hand in hers.

"My father, Thomas Wayne, didn't die that night in Crime Alley. He hired a man to murder my mother and help him fake his death." Her hand began to hurt, he was squeezing it so hard. "He is a disgusting man, the kind of filth I killed myself night after night to keep off Gotham's streets. _Everything_ I did was to make him proud of me, to pay him back for the sacrifice he made that night. I _wasted_ my life to honor him."

There was nothing she could say. Even if she could conjure some answer that was not trite, the words would be choked by her anger. If Bruce didn't kill Thomas Wayne, she would.

"He's the reason I've been gone from the Justice League for so long."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner? I would have helped."

His eyes drifted over her shoulder, and she knew he was staring at the picture frame—a gift from Tom, which held a photo of the smiling couple on one of their first dates.

"I was busy in Gotham."

"Is there _any_ way this man might be an imposter?"

"No." The answer came too quickly, like he was waiting for her to ask the question, like he had been asking it to himself constantly. He wouldn't look away, even now too stubborn to admit she understood him. The thought _had_ been entertained, but he was not the hopeful type. He would never let himself believe it.

But she could, and that was what he needed.

"Bruce, it's ok. He could be lying."

"I won't know until I find him. He was there the night I...died."

"Please stop saying that."

He looked about to protest, but surrendered. "We both went down in the helicopter that night, but no body was found. If I could escape, so could he."

"And you think he will reappear if you go into hiding?"

He formed a small smile. "I'm not hiding. As far as I'm concerned Batman doesn't exist."

"Then why are you here?"

"He knows the connection between Bruce Wayne and Batman. I want him to think I'm gone."

"What's the official story on Bruce Wayne?"

"Extended vacation in Borneo."

"So, will you be staying here?"

He hesitated a moment before answering, "It would be best. The level of security at your Embassy is nearly impenetrable."

"Except to bats?" she smiled.

"And no one is going to launch an attack on the Embassy. Even if they were going after you, it won't be here. They aren't stupid enough to bring the entire nation of the Amazons and a pantheon of angry goddesses on their heads. Also, through your office, I can connect to both the Watchtower and the Cave without the rest of the League knowing it's me. They will think it's you acces--"

_Of course he could have found some way of doing this at the Batcave. _

Diana smiled wider, placing her hand over his mouth. "I will help you in whatever way I can. No more questions asked. No more explanations necessary."

Bruce titled his head to the side, and then wrapped his arms around her. "Thank you."

When he let her go, she stepped out into the hall way. There was a terrible wrenching groan a few seconds later, and she came back, door in hand. Setting it aside, she ripped off the remnants of the door Tom had broken and propped the new door in its place.

"What I wouldn't give for heat vision. Maybe you _should_ have stayed with Superman."

"He couldn't lie to save the world."

"But—"

"You hate it, but you can do it to achieve a greater good. And the fewer people who know, the better."

Bruce pulled something that looked like a pocket knife and tossed it to her. It was a torch.

"Why am I not surprised?"

He began to walk towards the open doorway, and Diana fumbled with the torch. "I'd feel better if you slept in here. All the other rooms have cameras in them," she said.

_Which I'm sure you already knew, and probably have disabled or found some way of rerouting the feeds. _

"You're right."

Taking the torch from her hands, he soldered the door shut at its hinges. "The only way this door is opening is if Wonder Woman tears it from the wall."

Diana stepped forward and locked it. When she saw him looking at her, she grinned. "Just in case."

He walked towards her balcony and drew the curtains shut. While his back was still to her, Diana grabbed her pajamas off the bed. "I'll just go to the bathroom."

When she came back a few minutes later, the lights were off, and he was already under the covers. His clothes were draped over a chair, and the sight caused a flutter in her stomach. She slid underneath the sheets, and though the bed was large enough for two people to sleep in it without coming close to touching each other, her legs brushed against his bare skin and what was most likely the material of his boxers.

"I'm sorry I don't have any clothes for you to wear, especially since I destroyed your sweater."

"Alfred will be stopping by tomorrow and bringing me everything I need."

"A torch, but no pajamas?"

He didn't say anything. She turned on her side to face him. His eyes were open, staring up at her ceiling.

While it probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, Diana inched closer, letting her legs come into contact with his again. This time, she didn't move them away. And after a few seconds, when he didn't move either, she abandoned all pretenses and draped her hand over his torso, resting her head on his chest.

Again, the warmth of his skin made her happy. The furious pounding of his heart in her ears wasn't all that bad either.

"Bruce?"

He grunted.

"I'm glad you're not dead."

His hand came to rest on her back, and she shifted closer to him.

Within minutes, they were both fast asleep.

* * *

**To Be Continued**


	3. A New Day Dawning

Disclaimer 1: I own nothing.

Disclaimer 2: I have never read Batman: RIP, and since I hate the story line I don't ever plan on reading it. What little knowledge of the plot I have comes from wikipedia articles and the dcdatabase. So, some of the things I mention might be very close to the plot or very divergent. I took what I wanted and made up the rest.

Disclaimer 3: While this could be a very long story (which I might write at a later date), I am stopping it after the third chapter. There is some closure there and a semi-natural ending, but it leaves things very open ended. I thought I should finish Stranger in Paradise before I tackled another big story. Normally, I like to wait in between posting the chapters, but since I've been so terrible with updating Stranger, I thought I'd put these all up at once. Hopefully, it's a treat and not a punishment. **:D**

A/N: Thanks, Kipling (whoops, I almost wrote your real name, lol), for betaing this ministory. I know how busy you are, so for those moments where you can relax, I'm purchasing some massage chairs for the enclave. I plan on coming over to use them often. **:D** Also, thanks to Hepburn for giving me some suggestions to make my story more authentic to Diana's culture and vocabulary.

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**Rest in Peace  
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**Chapter Three:**

**A New Day Dawning**

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The light fall of rain against the roof and window woke Diana from her peaceful slumber. Eyes still shut, she enjoyed the stillness of the morning and the coziness of his arms wrapped around her. Through blurry vision she stared at the blue walls of her room, which appeared darker due to the lingering night. The sun could have just risen and blocked out by the clouds, or she had woken before Eos had made her circuit over Gateway City.

She could feel him all around her, which made sense, as their bodies were near flush against each other. But it was more than that, his very presence seemed to fill all the empty places. Rolling over, she hoped to watch him as he slept. At her movement, he woke up. His hands left her, trailing over her waist before they fell away, but his gaze remained fixed on her smiling face.

"Good morning." His already gruff voice sounded even scratchier.

Diana scooted closer, burrowing further into the blankets and his side.

"What time is your press conference?"

"Nine in Metropolis. As usual."

"What are you going to say?"

"Nothing. Clark said he would speak."

"So our argument last night, about you not wanting to lie, was pointless."

"Hmmm. Maybe."

Her eyes closed again, lulled by the steady rhythm of the rise and fall of his chest. Half hoping he was asleep again, Diana whispered, "I'm glad you came to me."

She looked up from his chest to find him staring down at her. The familiar struggle hung about his face, manifesting itself in his tortured gaze and clenched jaw. Pushing herself off of him she leaned forward and kissed the tight line of his lips. When he didn't move, she did it again. And again. His heart, whose beats she could feel under her palm, was pulsing faster and faster at her continued caresses, though it grew more and more difficult for her to keep giving without any response.

Diana rested her forehead against his, eyes lowered, unable to see his rejection. "Please, do something."

"I can't. Not y—"

"I love you."

Though it was probably not a secret to either of them, it had never been voiced. Fear, distance, pride, excuses; for whatever reason, the truth had been kept prisoner for years. And now she wondered why she had waited so long to say it. It had sounded and tasted right, because it was right. It bore repeating. "Bruce, I love you.

"I love you, and I have for a long time, and now that you are here, I'm not going to let—"

Bruce kissed her, pushed her into her mattress, the weight of his body heavy on top of her. Her mouth easily remembered his lips, how perfectly they melded with hers those few times they had given in to the truth of their situation. She moved herself closer to him, determined to learn other ways they fit together, and thankful that now she had the opportunity. In a haze, she flipped him over on his back, and he groaned into her mouth.

He broke away from her and removed one of her hands from his shoulder. She stared down at him confused and out of breath as he pressed his lips to her palm. "If you aren't careful, you'll open my stitches again."

"How bad does it hurt?"

She wasn't going to stop unless he said it was excruciating.

"We need to talk."

"Now?"

"Diana, this isn't right."

"I know. It's _perfect_."

He smiled up at her, and Diana returned it. "The timing is off. I have to find my father, and you need to break things off with Tom."

"I already told you, things between Tom and me are over."

"But he doesn't know that. You don't want to be that woman, Diana. And I don't want to make you that woman."

She normally rejoiced in the truth, but today it was a burden. "I want to be with you."

"You will be."

He'd never given anything like this to her before, but she felt dissatisfied. The promise should have been enough, but it just wasn't. "When? We've waited so long. I'll end things with Tom, but then you'll have to find out what is going on with your father, and once you've done that, something else will come up. I'm just…" she stared down at the pattern on her blanket, "What if we never get to be together? What if we lose our chance?"

His hand moved to her shoulder, brushing her hair out of the way before it wrapped around the back of her neck. The light circles his thumb traced over her skin relieved some of her tension. "I won't allow it." He pulled her down, kissing her softly. "For the first time in my life, I am going to have everything I've always wanted. I'm finally free to stop denying myself."

"I don't understand. How is that possible? You said it yourself, you're whole life has been a lie."

"I didn't say I felt happy, just free. Finding out that my hero is really a villain destroyed whatever reason I had to be Batman. I thought I could push through that, that it didn't matter, but being here just reminds me of everything I had to give up. Without Batman, I could allow myself to have everything."

"I don't want the world to lose Batman because of me."

"_Not you_. Thomas Wayne. I'm tired of being unhappy. I'm taking what I want." His smile was charming, almost enough to make her forget her unease.

"But even if your dad was not a good man, that doesn't change the fact that Gotham City needs you."

"I will still help Gotham City, just not as Batman. And with him gone, there is nothing to keep Bruce Wayne from becoming a respectable member of society, with an even more respectable girlfriend."

He had all his reasons and arguments lined up in a row. _Why am I being so stubborn?_

"What if…what if it turns out that your dad is dead, and this man has been lying to you?" She turned her face away from his, focusing on the blue of her walls. "I want Thomas Wayne to be good. I hate the idea of your work being done in honor of an evil man, and I know you do too. But…"

"It's alright, Diana."

"Hera, forgive me my selfishness, but now that I feel like we can be together, I don't want anything to get in the way."

His fingers forced her to look back at him, moved her chin so he could kiss her mouth. It was enough to erase her guilt. "I came here, because I knew _this_ would happen, not because Clark was a lesser alternative. Even if I hadn't found out about Thomas, even if my parents truly were as perfect as I believed them to be and I continued to be Batman, this was inevitable. It was time to give in."

The tables had turned. His persistence, rather than hers, was now driving this forward, if only she would agree. The seconds dragged on, but he wouldn't look away. There was no hardness to his face anymore, nothing that suggested he dreaded or resented surrendering to her. There was no cause for hesitation; he was promising himself, and the gratification that had been so longed delayed made it that much sweeter.

Diana pouted, laughing as he kissed her again. "I'm going to miss Batman."

His hands moved along her sides, and he dipped his head to her collarbone. Her body flushed even more at the knowing smile against her neck. "I can still wear the costume," he promised in a voice lower than normal, in the voice of the Bat.

"Good," she answered in a voice higher than normal, in the voice of a woman whose boyfriend was doing his best imitation of a vampire.

His body shifted over hers, lengthening as he stretched against her. The languid movement of their bodies aligning was enough to make her a permanent fixture in her bed, but she didn't lift her arms to stay him when he rolled off her and crawled out of bed. There would be more moments like these, and they wouldn't be overshadowed by the specter of Tom, Bruce's father, or the upcoming press conference.

"I think it's time for a shower." He disappeared behind the bathroom door, and she heard the loud click of the door locking. Sitting up, she gave herself a few seconds before getting out of bed. _There must be some male clothing lying around the Embassy somewhere_.

She was almost at the door, but something on the wall drew her attention. Taking the picture frame off its nail, she removed the photo, crumbling it before tossing it into the trash. The wooden frame was back on the wall, even and empty, when she pulled the door off its hinges. Wanting to get back before Bruce was out of the shower, Diana sped around the rooms, until she managed to find some extra uniforms in the guard's break room. Vowing to replace it later, she hurried to her room, uniform in hand.

Bruce was sitting on her bed, his lower body wrapped in a towel. "I hope you don't mind my outfit. Alfred won't be here for a few more hours."

"This has to be one of the worst plans anyone has ever created, let alone you. I thought you were supposed to be smart."

"I wasn't anticipating having my clothes ripped off by an Amazon. What's that?"

She held up the uniform. "Sorry, I couldn't find any underwear."

He gave her a smile, which could only be described as wicked, and she found herself fumbling the blue shirt to the ground. As she knelt down to pick it up, he said, "Not that it's any of your business, but I like to go commando."

Her jaw dropped open at his brazenness. His tapping foot drew her attention, and her eyes traveled upwards, momentarily pausing at his chest. His hands moved to his waist, then slid around behind his back. A smirk slowly pulled at his lips, making it much easier to drum up the will power to turn around. She was just about to when he pulled a pair of boxers from behind his back. "You're so gullible. I brought an extra pair."

Diana threw the shirt at his head. "The Embassy will be opening in an hour. I'll inform everyone that you are a new guard."

He stood and she looked away, but it was no good. He sidled up in front of her, a satisfied look on his face. "Not a bad idea. Will you be needing any personal protection?"

Diana scoffed, but her face was warm. "Not a smart idea. I'm Wonder Woman. I don't need a personal body guard. Now get dressed. I'm going to shower."

She walked into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind her. Noticing the gap in the wall made by her telephone, she stuffed a towel in it, then climbed into the shower.

When she was finished, she made a beeline to her walk-in closet, towel firmly wrapped around her. Closing the door, she checked any and all nooks and crannies. Satisfying herself that Bruce was not in there, she dropped her towel and changed into her uniform.

When she walked out, Bruce was on her bed, dressed like a security guard. The shirt was a bit snug around his chest and arms, but she did not think that a bad thing. She also noticed that the door was back on its hinges.

He stood and walked over to her, kissing her hard on the mouth. "Are you sure you don't need a body guard?" he murmured, as they drew away from each other.

The pair stood there, catching their collective breath. When that was accomplished, they still did not move.

"So what happens now?" she asked.

"When you get back, I'll fill you in on my plans."

Her shock was real, but she kept a playful tone in her voice, "You're going to let me know?"

"Things are different now."

Diana nodded, meeting his smile with one of her own. "I should probably be going."

With great reluctance, she pulled away. The task was made somewhat easier by the knowledge that he would be here when she returned.

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**The End...for now

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Anonymous Review (d) Replies:

**d**-I couldn't wait till I posted the next chapter to reply. You have found all my weaknesses! But thank you for exposing them and helping me improve. That is always welcome! Anyway, on to the questions...(I italicized your words) _And, *sigh* why did Bruce have to push Diana away in the beginning when he knew in the first place if he came to her expecting "this to happen?" _LOL, that was just probably me not paying attention to previous dialog, but I think I can resolve it with what I already wrote. The first time she tries to tell him she loves him (in chapter two), he is worried that she is only doing it because of the stress/emotion of the situation. I could see him being bothered by that, not wanting to take advantage of her emotional state to make his move. Plus there were some real objections: he still has his father issues to deal with, she needs to dump Tom's sorry a--ahem, she needs to end her relationship with Tom. However, when he heard Diana tell him she loved him, he couldn't control himself (yes, I know that's OOC, but whatever. My story!) and just had to smooch her! _Gasp, is that really what happened in the comics? Is Thomas Wayne really made out to be a villain?! _Honestly, I can't remember the details, but it must have been something like that. I would never have devised anything that stupid. Seriously, if that were true (and I think it turns out that the guy is an imposter), Bruce would have no reason to be Batman. The motivating factor is his parents' deaths. To turn that into a big, fat lie is so demoralizing and irked me like you wouldn't believe...If/When I continue this, there might be some major overhauls, but one of the things I will certainly be keeping is this new openness between BMWW. To have his past shattered like that, while highly injurious, I could totally see it as a very liberating thing. I'm not saying it would be smooth sailing for the two, but there wouldn't be anymore of this stupid "will they? won't they?" idiocy. His parents' "legacy" would no longer dictate his actions. The guilt would be gone, shifted to the bad guy. However, if it turns out the bad guy isn't his dad, that could be a problem. LOL, I stopped here because I have NO CLUE what to do next. I basically wrote this as a BMWW vehicle without little thought to anything else. However, I can't see this story continuing without addressing all the father stuff, and I want to write a story that's more than a romance. _Oh, and if you continue this, I do hope for more of Tom's reaction to Diana dumping him and finding out that she is dating and in love with Bruce. _I actually have written parts of what would most likely be the last chapter of this story, and it includes Tom's reaction. **:D** _By the way, why wouldn't Tim be in the know whether or not that Bruce is alive?_ Um, no good answer. I was just thinking, "keep the inner circle super small." So no Tim, though it probably doesn't make sense. I'll have to rethink/probably rewrite that bit if/when I continue. I was also confused as to why I let Bruce let Diana think he was dead. Perhaps he was trying to choose between Clark and Diana and hadn't come to a decision at the time the letters were sent. In any case, I have an idea for the rewrite of the beginning that would change it all and I think will be awesome...Thanks for the grammar lesson; I think I understand what you are saying. Seriously, I'm terrible when it comes to commas. Some of my sentences are so unbelievably long, I feel obliged to throw in commas even where they don't belong. (Did I use it correctly there? LOL I don't think it's needed now that I look back at it. I think it's one of the complex compound sentence dealios you were talking about earlier) Any and all help is appreciated. And if you see any other mistakes, feel free to drop a line. Speaking as a writer and beta, it's nearly impossible to catch everything...Um, I don't know if this breaks the rules of our online relationship/lovefest, but would you mind terribly sending along your email address? I understand if you don't feel comfortable doing that, and I promise not to be hurt (much =D) if you don't/can't, but I would love to discuss the future of this story with you.


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